I still deeply regret not donating my husband's organs as he had wished

DAILY MAIL | Sue Kittow
Sue Kittow and her husband Pip (pictured together) had discussed organ donation before he died
Out of the blue one morning, my husband, Pip, announced: ‘I want to leave my body to medical science.’ Well, it would make interesting fodder for the medics, I thought. He was 59 at the time and had, by anyone’s account, ‘lived a good life’.

‘And if they don’t want it,’ he said, reading my mind as ever, ‘I’ll donate my organs. After all, they’re no use to me when I’m gone.’

A statement that I entirely agreed with. A jeweller and designer, he’d always been fascinated by science, and wanted to help the medical profession as much as he could. He filled in the forms, while organ donation cards followed for us both.

Not that we thought we’d ever need them, of course, but we’d had the conversation. We knew what we’d do.

But how wrong I was, for when Pip did die, I was so dazed by grief that organ donation was the last thing on my mind. By the time it did occur to me, days after his death, it was too late: the chance had passed. Continue reading

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